Love & Mischief
The allegory of the good girls and the tricksters.
Hi! Happy Sunday, my little tricksters!
The energy in the air is mischievous and a little sinister—my favorite feeling.
February is a weird little month, isn’t it? Suspended between things. The light still gray, the wind sharp, but the air different somehow—like it's waiting for something.
It’s the month before St. Patrick’s Day (a holiday for bad decisions) and a month after the already-exhausting optimism of January.
… The perfect time for a little mischief.
I’ve always admired the trickster archetype in literature. They move through stories with a smirk, always one step ahead. Loki, Hermes, Puck—characters who make the rules only so they can break them. They aren’t villains, exactly. They don’t necessarily want to destroy things. They just want to see what happens when you shake up the order of things.
On the function of tricksters in literature, Story Grid writes:
“The trickster archetype is a character type in storytelling that is often associated with disruption, mischief, and humor. Tricksters are known for their cunning, wit, and unpredictability, which often challenge the status quo and cause unexpected events in stories.”
On a much more philosophical level, Judy Young in Introduction to Literature writes:
“For a culture to really thrive, it cannot be all about obedience to expectations and imperatives. It has to change at some point. Otherwise, it won’t last… All change is NOT progress. But progress is change, by definition.”
Tricksters remind us that rules are made up. That life is malleable. That most of the things we stress over could probably be skipped, finessed, or laughed at.
I’ve always believed this.
So why do I still act like such a good girl?
In me, lives two girls: one evident, the other strategically concealed.
The first is the good girl. She follows the rules, plays the game, and knows exactly how to be palatable. She’s polite, measured, careful. She doesn’t cause trouble. She’s been conditioned to be likable, and for the most part, it’s worked in her favor.
But the other girl? The trickster? She’s a problem.
She’s the one who got in trouble at school for talking too much, for resisting authority. The one who quite literally argued with teachers on principle, who knew how to charm her way out of consequences but also never really feared them.
At some point, I learned that this girl had to be put away. That if I wanted to be chosen—by friends, by bosses, by love interests—I had to be pleasant, agreeable, good. And so, the trickster went quiet.
But as Women Who Run With the Wolves taught us, women are trained to tame themselves. To be desirable instead of unpredictable. But wildness doesn’t just disappear. You can press it down, reshape it, smooth out the edges. But it always finds a way to surface.
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I went to an event after work this week. It was a perfectly nice event. Polished, beautiful, a young, incredibly fashionable crowd. It’s the kind of room where you’re supposed to want to be seen.
The wine was bad, but free—the kind of free that makes people pretend it’s better than it is. I talked to strangers, laughing like we’ve known each other for ages. The lighting was good. The music was good. Everything was good.
And then, I wanted out.
The urge was immediate, physical. My chest tight, my jaw sore, my eyes glossy, my body shaking. I caught my reflection in the window—composed, the picture of someone who belonged here.
But I knew, if I stayed much longer, I’d literally have to start breaking things just to feel something.
The door was right there. Open wide, in fact.
I could have left.
But I didn’t.
Because I am the good girl.
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I read a piece on my homepage recently, “Good Girls Are Getting Sick” by
. In it, she writes:“I was taught to be a ‘good girl.’ But good girls get sick. Studies show that unprocessed emotions, particularly suppressed anger, are linked to chronic inflammation and hormonal imbalances—including conditions like PCOS and autoimmune disorders.”
Yeah. That hit me. Because I’ve seen it in myself.
After the event, later in the night, I had this weird, dissociative moment. I saw my body as something separate from myself—like it belonged to someone else. And for the first time, I really looked at it.
I saw everything I’ve put it through. The relentless push for perfection. The control. The restriction. The abundance. The stress.
It was battered and bruised in a way you don’t usually see with mental strain. But if my body could show everything it had carried, this is what it would look like.
And then, I started crying. A lot.
Why was I crying?
Because I would never treat anyone else’s body like that.
So why would I do it to mine?
The good girl follows the rules. She pushes through, keeps it together, keeps up appearances.
And over the years, my body has paid the price:
My autonomic disease
My supposed endometriosis (Still need to get that checked, but that’s another story)
My exhaustion and fatigue
My obsessive need for control
At the time, during the event, I didn’t realize it, but that overstimulation, that nervous energy—it wasn’t just social anxiety. It was the part of me that’s been hidden for so long. The part that wanted to slip out the back door, run barefoot down the street, break something, disappear.
The part that still wants to run with the wolves.
For so long, I thought love meant being good. Being agreeable, responsible, easy to have around. I thought self-love was about discipline and control.
But what if real self-love is a little… mischievous?
What if loving yourself means not following the rules? Not being productive. Not making the “right” choices. Not earning your rest, your pleasure, your joy—just taking it.
Maybe self-love isn’t about discipline. Maybe it’s about mischief
Not texting back immediately—not as a game, but because you’re too busy living.
Overdressing for a coffee run. Underdressing for a dinner. Wearing whatever makes you feel untouchable.
Saying no. Leaving early. Slipping out before anyone can ask where you’re going.
For the first time in my adult life, I don’t want to be the good girl (not all the time, anyway).
I want to make a game out of my own life. I want to be the trickster.
And that’s why my theme this month is Love & Mischief (Which, by the way, would be a great brand name. Feel free to steal it.)
This is your sign to be unpredictable this month.
Trick fate a little.
Don’t be good.
Create mischief.
Another hotel… well a swap. After 26 years, the Holiday Inn is being replaced by the AC Hotel. The renderings look nice. Wondering how many more Marriotts will pop up over the next few years.
Myles Garrett has requested to leave the Browns. I don’t blame him.
People are burning their Deshaun Watson jerseys. I don’t blame them either. Should’ve done it sooner.
Canon Healthcare is making Cleveland the site of their global HQ. Huge for the med-tech community. I personally thought Canon just made cameras.
The Cavs newest (& cutest) player:
The MET Gala hosting committee was announced, with A$AP Rocky as one of the chairs. I reallyyyyy hope he’s not in prison by then.
How is everyone feeling about the supposed return of the skinny jean? Alix Earle just launched a collab with Frame featuring two pairs of skinny jeans. I have to admit: styled correctly (with a heel), they look kind of…good? Maybe we were just wearing them wrong in 2012.
Frame’s “The Alix” Jean Ummm. This video was specifically made for me I think. Excited to watch Kendrick tonight. Love that boy.
That’s all for today, folks! Hope you enjoyed.
See you next Sunday! Cause a little mischief in the meantime.
XO, Cass
Women Who Run With the Wolves and love Timmy Chalamet...... I'd like to be a part of this group
“What if self love is a little mischievous?” Love that! Really enjoyed this :)